


déjà vu

by shokubeni



Series: of stags and roses [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 01:43:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9526319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shokubeni/pseuds/shokubeni
Summary: "Is in moments like those, when Loras is awakening from either a sleepless night or one plagued with awful nightmares, that he doesn’t remember he has lost Renly; and in those fleeting, ethereal moments, half reality and half dreams, he’s wrapped in the sweetest feeling and fantasy only ignorance can bring you and no harm, no worry and definitely no memory is haunting him."





	

**Author's Note:**

> a small collection of drabbles revolving loras tyrell and his relationship with renly that i plan to finish somewhen

You know those moments between slumber and consciousness, when the limbs of your body are heavy and the mind is cloudy with sleepiness, when you’re swaddled in warmth and comfort, the sheets around your body creating a cocoon which can protect you from any harm, any worry, and any memory.

Is in moments like those, when Loras is awakening from either a sleepless night or one plagued with awful nightmares, that he doesn’t remember he has lost Renly; and in those fleeting, ethereal moments, half reality and half dreams, he’s wrapped in the sweetest feeling and fantasy only ignorance can bring you and no harm, no worry and definitely no memory is haunting him.

And half conscious, half asleep, Loras remembers strong arms around his waist pulling him into an equally strong chest, and the thrumming of a steady heartbeat against his ear. The rustling of fabric as legs and arms try to look for each other’s in the expanse of a bed, basking in the glow of their bodies pressed tightly against each other, and the world far, far away from where they were. But most importantly, Loras remembers the particular scent which was Renly’s and Renly’s only: Masculine and deep, of musk and pine tree, peaches and leather, sweet wine and summer. And in those moments in which Renly is not close to him and Loras is alone in an empty, monstrously big bed; Loras thinks he can smell that scent so clearly, and in his head, in his memories, in that shady place which is like quicksand between his memories and his reality, he takes a deep breath as if he trying to breathe Renly in, again and again and again. And in his almost delusional state, he hears a hoarse, deep chuckle and the whisper of his name against his light brown curls of his head.

But soon, the scent starts to gradually fade away, and the warmth Loras is basking into is disappearing, and he starts to drift away from that delightful feeling, eyes fluttering open, only to be welcomed by a reality that is much uglier, less pleasant, because in this reality there is no Renly. In this reality, there’s no arms pulling him against the expanse of a wide chest, and there’s no body heat shared with each other. There’s no rustling of fabric or the steady of a heartbeat, neither the smell of musk and summer and leather, and definitely there’s no one whispering his name against his hair between content sighs.

And when Loras opens his eyes, he gasps as he has been fighting to breathe underwater for hours; the first gasps so intense and loud it feels like his lungs are burning and he sits on his bed with his heart beating so fast he can feel it in the core of his throat. Unconsciously he moves a hand to the opposite side of the bed, only to find it empty and dangerously cold, and the reality slaps Loras in the face again, so hard it’s a surprise he doesn’t fall from to the floor.

The fleeting moment between dreams and reality is over, and Loras is in complete control of his limbs and his mind is lucid and he’s sadly too awake to remember Renly is gone. It’s still as painful, the clawing on his chest as he remembers, as he closes his eyes only to see the frozen corpse which was once the warm body of the man he has loved so much. And his cocoon is burst, and he’s left alone in the middle of a bed which is too big for him with all his worries and his memories, and without Renly’s arms, chest, heartbeat, scent and voice to help him to carry on.


End file.
